


F☺☺lish

by Emptynarration



Category: Youtube RPF, Youtube egos
Genre: ( i have no clue what to tag ), Songfic, Suicidal Thoughts, implied suicidal thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2020-05-20 17:58:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19381843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emptynarration/pseuds/Emptynarration
Summary: A songfic inspired by the song "F☺☺lish" by GHOST on youtubeWilford doesn't need to be anything but the happy-go-lucky man the other's see him as.After all, he's just a fool, right? ☺





	F☺☺lish

**Author's Note:**

> this was written JANUARY 17, 2018

_Listen up, boys,_  
_I’m gonna die_  
_The seconds counting_  
_To my final cry_  
_Ah!_

_Mark my words, y'see_  
_I’m breathing in the_  
_Open gates to hell_

Wilford was walking along the edge of the rooftop, arms stretched out to keep his balance. He was swaying a lot, tilting and tipping on purpose. Wanting to fall, not wanting to? The sun was setting, the sky a deep red and orange, clouds turning purple and violet and lavender.

_I’ll say, the thought_  
_Of death and I_  
_A merry couple_  
_Laughing at the likes of you_  
_Human toxins_

_I mean, take a guess…_  
_Why should I stick around?_

He giggled as he twirled where he was, toes at the very edge, almost making him fall off. Wilford just laughed though, shrugging and continuing. Death meant nothing to him, and he meant nothing to death. He didn’t care.

_Many back doors_  
_And many methods_  
_Take your chances_  
_With a life worth losing_

_Simple as can be,_  
_Oh,_  
_I could care less_  
_Don’t you worry about me_

Someone was coming. Wilford could hear, but he didn’t care. No one needed to worry about him, he was always fine after all. Always smiles and giggles, never worried when injured in any way, in any fatality.  
He could care less about being injured, he knew he’d be fine. He got hurt often enough, he tried the most dangerous things often enough. He was sure he couldn’t even die.

 _I’ll say, the thought_  
_Of death and I_  
_Disdaining people_  
_Pointing at the worthless girl_  
_Saying she’s something_

_I mean, look at me_

Wilford turned to the other ego, grinning. He was very aware of how death was just a joke to him. That’s why he sought it out, wanted it, craved it. Death meant nothing to him, death wasn’t real. He searched for death to find it. Or not. Wanting to know if it was a real thing or not.

_HA HA HA_  
_MY LIFE’S A JOKE_  
_RAZOR BLADE DRAWINGS_  
_COLOUR AND RUIN_

_I DON’T TAKE LIFE SERIOUSLY_  
_I’M JUST A FOOL_  
_I’M JUST A FOOL_

He laughed at the other’s concern, twirling again, skipping on the railing, swinging his arms. Why was he so worried? Nothing could happen to Wilford! And he was supposed to be the clown, wasn’t he? Always laughing, always happy, always the bubbly bubblegum bitch! He was here just for that, right?

_I REALLY DON’T CARE_  
_WASTING MY TEARS AND_  
_SPITTING OUT FEARS_

_AND TURNING UP THE_  
_CARBON MONOXIDE_  
_I’M JUST A FOOL_  
_I’M JUST A FOOL_

Wilford rubbed his cheeks as the other ego pointed out the tears on them. He didn’t understand. Crying didn’t solve anything, being afraid of anything didn’t solve anything.  
Yet he was still afraid, that he’d be alone, that he’d be forgotten, that he’d be replaced. But, no one needed to know any of that. Or anything else. He took a deep breath of the heavy air around him, glad the other ego was far enough away to not smell the burnt caramel.

_Now, enough of this_  
_I’m sick and tired_  
_Of your constant sympathy for me_

_Mark my words, y'see_  
_I’m breathing in a_  
_Simply deadly remedy_

The other ego was concerned for him. Wilford didn’t care. Whenever he wasn’t as bubbly as he was supposed to be, he was pitied instead of worried about. Not really, at least. Whenever Wilford didn’t understand something, like death, he was pitied. He knew he was. He could see it, he could hear it.

_Those days I’m reminiscing on_  
_Mean absolutely nothing to a_  
_Worthless girl_  
_Such as I_

_I mean, what’s the point?_  
_If there even is one…_

Wilford huffed at the ego and turned his back to him again. He didn’t see a point in trying to talk to him, trying to reason. He was just a dumb idiot for all of the others after all, supposed to just be happy and laughing. Making jokes. Making a joke out of himself. He didn’t know why he’d ever bother trying to be different.

 _Call it quits, I_  
_Just wanna die_  
_And blood’s_  
_dripping-dropping_

_I can’t get enough_  
_Staining everything and_  
_Leaving toxins_  
_Hanging loosely in the air_

He would be in his room, like always when he wasn’t expected anywhere and had nothing to do. But he hated being there. It always smelled of blood, of iron, even if there was none. Or maybe there was, and he didn’t know. He sometimes even felt it dropping onto his skin.  
He rubbed his arms, feeling phantom drops on them. He looked at his hands, seeing them red. Were they really? He could smell it.

 _I know you’ll never give a damn_  
_It’s not like anybody_  
_Even cared for this_  
_Human toxin_

He smiled and shrugged, knowing no one would care if he was covered in blood anyways. Even when it was his own, no one batted an eye. No one bothered to ask if he was covered in his own blood or someone else’s after all.

 _HA HA HA_  
_MY LIFE’S A JOKE_  
_RAZOR BLADE DRAWINGS_  
_COLOUR AND RUIN_

_TURNING UP THE_  
_CARBON MONOXIDE_  
_I’M JUST A FOOL_  
_I’M JUST A FOOL_

Wilford waved the other ego away as he called out to them, feeling the heels of his feet float, feet tipped over the edge of the roof. Falling would just be amusing. He’d laugh, and everyone else would roll his eyes at his stupidity. Or whatever they thought it was.

He didn’t get to though, as the ego just pulled him down suddenly, Wilford not having noticed him approaching as he had been thinking how it would be to fall. To see the sky, the top of the roof, getting further and further away.  
His stomach hurt thinking about it. It was stained red, shirt soaked. His hands were covered in blood. The smell was overwhelming.

But he was dragged away by his hand his blood-stained, red- no, his clean hand. He was here for amusement, he remembered.

What had he been doing up here anyways?


End file.
